What Is To Be

-Twenty-Fourth-

By Annie

2003-12-11

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

"That's not possible," Cordelia simply stated. "You CAN'T die."

Angel's smile widened ever so slightly at that.

"Of course I can. Stake through the heart and all that," he replied softly and she stared at him for a second before she turned her head to look at the others.

"Are there any stakes in here?" she asked and everybody shook their heads. "There ARE no stakes in here," she said, her eyes back on Angel.

"Cordy..."

"No. No, I'll not listen to this. This is... We can't have come this far to be faced with THIS!" she protested, pausing for a second as the frustration on her grew and then she turned and simply left the room.

Buffy could almost see that bad sensation from before circle Angel's head like a black halo and she felt her heart go out to Cordelia.

"Why would you have to die...?" she then asked, very much dreading the answer.

"It's a long, complicated, twisted part of history," Wesley answered in the other's stead and Buffy turned her head to him.

"Indulge me," she said and he gave a small nod.

"We need to exorcise Satoch from Susannah."

"You mean, with the potion?" Buffy cut in, but the former watcher shook his head.

"No, that would most surely kill her. There are other ways - I spoke to Giles about it. However, once the deed is done we need an, at least close to, equally powerful demon to fight Satoch. The prophecy tells of a ritual in which we can summon Aatoch, but we have not the knowledge or the means to perform this magic. And so there is another option..."

As he trailed off Buffy's eyes grew.

"You can't be serious," she said. "Angelus does nothing if it isn't for himself! Why would he want to help us save the world?!"

"Because once he's out of the body which hosts him he'll be smashed into oblivion unless he defends himself," Angel replied.

"That's not possible! Your demon can't exist without YOU."

"No, it can't," Angel agreed. "Not as it is. But it will."

"How can you know?" she shot and he smiled that small smile again.

"I know," he stated and she swallowed, still not believing she was hearing this.

"What about your soul?" she then countered. "What'll happen to you soul? You're just gonna let it go...?"

"Hopefully I'll get to dwell someplace nice, like you did," he answered and she shook her head.

"I get why Cordelia just got the hell out of here, 'cause this is ridiculous and you seem too apt to believe this would actually ever work to see what's right in front of you! That you're both insane!" she burst out.

"This is what the prophecy tells us I have to do," Angel disagreed.

"All the prophecies say someone has to die, don't they? But, hey, I'M still alive! There's a way we can beat this at its own game, and I'm gonna search night and day 'til I find it!"

"Yes, you go do that. One night and one day is about all that you have left," Angel replied.

"How can you mock this?!" she exclaimed, aggravated.

"Don't you remember that feeling you had, when you realized the reason everything that had happened in your life had brought you to this one deciding moment?" he asked back. "When you jumped, Buffy, you didn't have any doubts or any regrets. It was your time."

"This isn't the same thing!"

"What if it is?" he retorted. "Angelus has tormented me for a century, Buffy. Maybe it's time to set him free. To set ME free."

"I can't believe you're giving up," she grumbled and then she felt Spike's hand on her shoulder.

"He's not," he said, his gaze in Angel's and it was filled with understanding.

"Then we'll find a way to bring you back," Buffy said, her eyes not able to hold back the tears anymore. "It's worked before! We'll find a way to..."

"Don't mess with nature," Angel shook his head. "I don't want to die, Buffy. But this isn't a life. I can't touch the people I love... I can't walk in the sunshine or have a family or do anything that I once took for granted. I was born human, and now my soul is trapped in here with a thing that has claws and fangs and I've been bearing it for so long... Don't try to bring me back; it won't work for you this time."

"You're talking like you're already gone," she said, drying her tears and straightening her posture as she added: "I won't stand for it."

Turning she walked out of the room as well and Angel sighed.

"Are you sure?" Fred asked, her eyes now also glistening with salty liquid, and he smiled reassuringly.

"Yes," he nodded.

Hesitantly she and Gunn left the room, their own objections kept back by the look he gave them both to believe he meant what he said, and then he turned his eyes in Wesley's.

"I need you to finish your interpretation," the former said and Wesley nodded, he too leaving the room quietly.

Silence again, and then Angel spoke up once more, saying:

"You haven't said a word."

Faith smiled a little, then gave a shrug.

"Dunno what to say," she admitted. "I mean, you seem to have made up your mind and since you're all cool about it, I'm thinking maybe it's not so bad. But I don't think I should slap you on the shoulder and say 'Way to go'. And since I can't offer my condolences I just thought I'd be better off keeping my mouth shut."

Spike smirked, as did Angel.

"Always a direct hit with you, isn't it?" Angel asked and she smiled as well.

"Just valuing honesty a bit more nowadays," she replied. "And what's the use beating about the bush, right? Look, I'm not saying I'm HAPPY that you're about to bite the dust..."

She tried not to look sheepish at her choice of words, but it didn't quite succeed and Angel had a wider smile on as he replied, assuringly:

"I know."

"Well, I'll be downstairs. Picking up the pieces of all those broken hearts," she said, rising from the chair she had been seated on and walking up to the edge of the bed to give him a kiss on the forehead.

She stopped only a few millimeters from his skin and then she asked:

"You're still burning, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"So I'll probably get really hurt if I touch you right now, huh?"

"Probably," he agreed and she pulled away again.

"Feel better," she mumbled and he smirked, watching her go and then looking at Spike.

"Isn't it ironic?" the vampire inquired and the mortal tilted his head slightly to the side, wondering. "We have shared loves and passions and pangs throughout this existence... And now, in a way, we'll share a death."

"Perhaps not," Spike replied. "You have two women down there fighting to keep you alive. Two sharp minds, about to be joined by two more."

Angel raised his eyebrows.

"Wesley's and my own," Spike elaborated and Angel smirked again.

"Listen," he then said. "I'm happy for you and Buffy, you know that, right?" Spike observed him for another few seconds before he nodded. "You said that I shouldn't wait too long, with Cordelia... That time has a tendency to run out. Guess there was more truth to that than I even realized myself."

"Hey, soon I'll have to agree with Buffy. You sound like you're giving up. Don't you even wanna try and fight this? You said it yourself, you don't WANT to die."

"I don't know, Will. Even if I do love Cordy, and even if she does love me... where does it leave us? Love will last for a lifetime, I know that. But what kind of life could I offer her? No children, no family..."

"You don't think I've asked myself those very questions when it comes to Buffy?" Spike cut in, only it made Angel smile again.

"But all that's in the past," he pointed out. "You're human. You can give her a future that isn't too far from normal."

"Who wants normal?"

"In the end, everyone craves stability."

"So, you think you'll hurt Cordy less by leaving her?"

"How did YOU make the decision?" Angel shot and Spike grew quiet.

"Fine," he finally replied. "If this is what you have to do. I understand; you know I do. But if I had had a chance to get through what happened alive..."

"But you weren't meant to," Angel was the one who interrupted this time. "You were meant to die, and come back. Just as this is what's meant to happen."

Spike eyed him again and actually felt the first tweaking of sorrow near his heart at the thought of losing someone whom he had considered a brother for a decade, and even more so for the past year.

"Whatever you say," he murmured, turning and leaving the room as well, heading down the stairs to join the others in the conference room.

***

The pieces did seem to be falling into place, however reluctantly or no matter how much some of the group wished they wouldn't. For over half a year had they been studying the prophecy, turning every single stone upside down in search for liable clues.

For what?

What had it all been for if one of them had to die over it.

Cordelia couldn't understand it. She was so fed up with all of it. She hated crying over it, because it did no good. But the anger she felt at this constant messing with them had to come out somehow, and so she slammed her hand into the wall of her room. Repeating the movement as the pain branched through her hand and up her arm to her elbow, taking her mind off the other aches she was under.

When she hit her hand the fifth time her door opened to her right and Buffy poked her head inside.

"You know, that only works if you're on the outside wanting to be let in... And even more so with one of these," the Slayer said, pointing to the door and having Cordelia give her a weak smile before her jaw set again.

"You have no idea how much I hate everything in this world right now," she said, voice hard and controlled and Buffy stepped into the room, closing the door behind her before facing her friend. "I wish it'd just go away and leave us alone. Why do WE have to save it all the time, huh? Can't someone else just do it this ONCE? Or better yet, could all the Powers maybe come together and somehow force world peace on us? Enlighten us, why don't you?!" she yelled, her head tilted back as she directed the last sentence to the ceiling. "Higher beings my ass. Have you noticed that it's this small group of people who constantly have to shoulder the weight of this entire world, while the rest of all the population of this puny little planet continue to live in frickin' oblivion as to what the hell is going on around them. Why? Because they CHOOSE to. They CHOOSE not to acknowledge those creepy X-File things they see now and then as anything real. They go on; they go back to whatever they were doing and pretend that everything is right with the world while HE has to DIE for them!"

At that she broke into sobs and Buffy, patiently listening to the tirade of emotions, stepped up to her.

Only Cordelia put up a hand and walked away, standing with her back to the Slayer, the latter could see how her shoulders shook. Her voice was low as she commenced speaking again.

"He's been trying so hard to make up for the things he did... He hates Angelus. He hates that he can't control him. I've watched him for so many years, Buffy. How he's been haunted by memories that are more than one- hundred years old, TWO-hundred years old; and how he suffers from them every single day. I wanted to help him through that, but in ways I only made it worse... And now... I HATE this!" she exclaimed, grabbing a vase standing on a spindly table and throwing it clear cross the room where it split into different sized pieces with a sharp shatter, falling to the floor with the same noise and then leaving the two humans with nothing but that of Cordelia's crying.

"I know," Buffy mumbled. "More than you can even imagine. I've killed him, Cordelia. I've lost him twice and both times I thought I was going to die myself."

"Please, don't give the old speech of 'You'll be fine, you'll see. You'll go on...'"

"No," Buffy shook her head. "Wouldn't dream of it. But what I was coming to was the second time I lost Angel, I also knew I had to let him go. And even worse was when I was in the Hellmouth with Spike... with William. Walking away, just leaving him there, was the hardest thing I've ever had to do; but I knew it was right. It had to be. His face wouldn't have looked the way it did if what he had decided to do wasn't right. I could only step back and watch it happen, because..."

"You don't want Angel to have to die either, Buffy, don't be a hypocrite!" Cordelia interrupted, twirling around to face her.

"No," Buffy slowly admitted. "Of course I don't. And if there is any way he doesn't have to, we'll find it. But..."

"No 'buts'," Cordelia cut in. "We'll find it, 'cause it's there. I just have to... calm down."

"I'm sorry," Buffy said. "I didn't mean for it to sound like some cheap excuse for feel-good... Just wanted you to know that I know how you're feeling, and that you can talk to me about it. Or scream at me about it, either which way you think works best."

At that Cordelia smiled a small smile again, then she sighed.

"I'll be right down, just have to rinse my face with hot water."

Buffy nodded, only she paused at the door and turned her head back to the other with a questioning frown.

"'Hot water'?"

"Duh," Cordelia replied, pointing to her cheeks, adding: "Ice."

Buffy smiled at that, then walked outside and closed the door, drawing a small breath to steady herself before she headed for the stairs. Spike just stepped out of Angel's room. As she spotted him her heart skipped a beat and she hurried up to him, throwing her arms around his neck in a tight embrace and he looked a little surprised, though pleasantly so, as she pulled back again.

"Just wanted to make sure," she said and he looked quizzical. "That you're really here," she elaborated and he gave her a smile at that, sliding one hand into one of hers as they walked together to the stairs.

***

The hush which had settled over the building at the sudden new turn in their so far eventful week, stayed with persistence as the habitants got ready for bed.

Susannah had seemingly fought back the demon with enough force to have him retract. If it ended up being just another pretense would surely come into play soon enough and so the gang left her as she was. She hadn't come down all evening, and Spike had spent an hour conversing soothingly with her.

Angel wished no company. He had blatantly turned everyone away, saying that he had too much in his head as it was to even pretend to listen to anyone else. He would see them all in the morning. All of them apart from Cordy, it seemed, who had been sitting with the books all evening; but as everyone began to retire she had seemingly gotten her courage back, and she had gone to the vampire. SHE had been let in on her first knock.

The Slayer could only smile over it, though. Knowing that it would be good for the both of them to talk. Hopefully they would talk. Cordelia truly loved him. She had to. Buffy was certain she had researched more in the six hours she had spent in the conference room, than she ever had while helping the Scoobies. Or the Investigations for that matter.

For the rest of them, research had gone slow, though it was a bit simpler than when Wesley had gotten his hands on the first prophecy as he now had quite an extensive dictionary of the otherwise foreign language.

Buffy smeared the blot of moisturizer she had put on her stomach over the skin and then grabbed the bottle again, putting some in one hand and getting to work on her arms after putting the bottle back on its shelf in the bathroom. Walking into the bedroom she locked eyes with Spike, who was lying on the bed on his side, head propped in one hand and a pleased smile on his lips.

"Any particular reason you wear that expression?" she asked and he rolled onto his back as she reached the bed, putting one knee on it and then straddling him.

"Yeah, I'm clairvoyant and I saw you doing precisely this if I wore that expression," he smirked and she chuckled, leaning forward and kissing him deeply.

Keeping her mouth tight against his she slipped her arms around his neck and slid to the side, stretching out alongside him as he held her to him. They gently broke the kiss and she moved to rest her head on his chest, a position she usually placed herself in when in his arms like this.

"How's Susie doing?" she asked and he was silent for a short while, then answered:

"Both good and bad. I think she's even more scared now, thinking this demon is actually some sort of part of her... And still stronger 'cause she's so bloody pissed off."

Buffy had another smile on her mouth as she moved her head to look at him.

"Good. Pissed off is good when you're going to war. Just as long as you don't lose your focus," she stated and he nodded his consent, moving one hand to gently slide it through her long locks and she closed her eyes.

"What about Cordelia?" he asked and she sighed.

"She had a meltdown and then she plastered on a determined face... How do you think she is?"

"Do you really think there's anything we can do? To prevent this, I mean? It's three-hundred years coming..."

"I have to think there is," she stated flatly, opening her eyes again and he looked empathetic for the loss she was clearly already fearing.

"I know," he mumbled. "And I want to believe it too."

"Tomorrow," she said. "We'll find the answer tomorrow."

"Do you think Forte can help?" he wondered and she raised one shoulder in a shrug.

"We'll find out, I guess," she muttered and he smiled as he slipped his fingertips down her cheek.

"You're beautiful," he said and her gaze grew warm. "This week has been the best of my life."

"And I get to make the next week of your life the best as well," she stated. "And the next, and the next. This isn't the end coming, Will... It's another bump in the road. And we won't have to sacrifice anyone this time. We won't."

He reached down and took hold around her shoulders before gently pulling her up in order to get to kissing her.

But he couldn't say anything to reassure her or calm her, make her feel better; because he had a daunting feeling of his own, and it spoke nothing of salvation.

**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** ******************

-Twenty-Fifth-

By Annie

2003-12-16

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

"If I can wake up beside you for the rest of my life, I'll be a very happy woman," her voice whispered in his ear and a smile slowly spread on his lips as sleep began to elude him.

"If I can fall asleep next to you for the rest of MY life, I'll be a very happy man..." he then mumbled, feeling the tip of her nose brush against his cheek right before he opened his eyes and rested them in hers. She smiled a little, and he returned it. "I guess that works out nicely then, eh?" he added and her expression was warm as she nodded, then kissed him softly on the lips.

"I love you," she said, still whispering, and his smile turned content.

"And I you," he replied gently.

"Even if the world ends tomorrow?" she asked and now he couldn't help but look wondering as her question brought him to be fully awake. "Even if I can't stop it this time?" she added, her voice lowered into a grumble and he pulled her to him before he answered her.

"I think we already had the session with the twenty 'even?', love. And you went to bed with what sounded like a mind made up - that there's no question what outcome we'll have tomorrow. What happened?"

She suddenly looked apprehensive and terribly sad and he had something grip his heart as he realized just how little he could stand seeing her like that.

"My dream," she finally said.

"What? Did it change?" he asked. "Was there anything more in there? Any new details that...?"

"No," she interrupted, though her voice sounded defeated and not annoyed. She slowly sat up, sighing as her shoulders slumped slightly. She looked as though she actually hadn't slept all night. "It's just that I feel like there should be, you know? Like there's something I'm missing. It's just so much stuff flying around in my head these days it's hard to choose what to shoot down and what to let go."

At that he smirked widely before sitting up as well, his face stopping an inch from hers before he leaned forward and connected their foreheads.

"You're the Slayer," he said, "no matter what - when it's time, it'll come to you. You won't have to shoot at anything, sweetheart. And you don't have to be afraid of letting the important stuff go, 'cause if you need it, it's not going anywhere. Alright?"

She smiled another small smile, then nodded a little.

"Alright," she mumbled, slipping her arms up and around his neck before she moved her head so that she could nestle closer to him. "God, you've always been so good at this."

He furrowed his brow, holding her to him; then wondered:

"What?"

"Calming me," she answered and he had to smile again.

"'Always'?" he asked and she seemed to think her reply over for a short while before she said:

"Yeah."

He chuckled, kissing her shoulder.

"Forgive me if I'm colored a bit surprised," he said and she pulled away to look at him.

"More like amused," she remarked and he smirked again.

"Well, you have to see the humor in you saying that I always calmed you down! Bloody hell, I'd say I ALWAYS had the exact OPPOSITE effect, wouldn't you?" he inquired, making her smile as well and then shake her head.

"I didn't say you 'always calmed me down', I said you always knew HOW to calm me down. Even when I hated or distrusted you the most, one look from you and a few well-chosen words of comfort and everything'll-be-okay's and I felt like that was the truth... So strange, when I think of it now, how I never saw it back then. Or maybe... I just didn't want to see it," she finished thoughtfully, adding: "I'm sorry."

It was his turn to shake his head, dismissively.

"No need for those," he said. "I think we're done apologizing to each other for the past, don't you agree?"

Her eyes turned tender and then she wrapped her arms around him again, as silent confirmation that he was absolutely right.

"I loved you 'til the end of the world and back, Buffy," he then said. "Do you really think my love could ever die?"

"No," she whispered, mouth against the side of his throat and her hold tightening. "Never."

***

Susannah looked up when her door slid open. She smiled as Angel came through it and he smiled back. Approaching the bed and taking a seat beside her, reaching out and taking one of her hands carefully in his.

"Hi, girl," he said.

"Hello, boy," she replied.

They grew quiet, and serious. She got the feeling that he had come to her room not only to see her, but to speak to her about something. Something important. She didn't know how to set his mind at ease so that he would tell her what it was.

Suddenly he smiled again, and when he spoke she understood that it might take a while for him to get to the point.

"What prompted the Peter Pan analogy in the first place?" he asked.

She smiled as well, tentatively.

"Well," she then answered. "The first time I saw you - in a conscious state, I mean - I noticed you didn't have a shadow... I didn't connect the dots right from the start. Thought I was losing my mind even more. But then... I remember Peter Pan as the savior. And what he stands for. Vitality, eternal youth and laughter... You don't share some of his more annoying traits of childishness and selfishness, that's for sure," she stated and his smile widened. "But," she continued, "you saved me. You made me believe in magic." She paused, then gave a small shrug. "I guess that's why."

"I didn't save you," he mumbled and she raised her eyebrows. "I didn't," he repeated. "Look at you," he added, clenching his jaws together. "Lying here, fighting that... thing. And I know... how it is. And I'm so sorry."

Susannah stared at him in taken astonishment.

"Don't you dare come here and say you're sorry!" she exclaimed, sounding close to offended but only semi-serious this time. "Angel, you've done more for me than I ever would've expected! I can't believe you'd sit there and think that I would think anything else!"

"I didn't see what you were really suffering. If I'd understood it sooner, maybe..."

"Stop," she shook her head, but he didn't seem to listen as he simply continued:

"If I'd been able to see that something was off..."

"How could you have? I hid it from MYSELF!"

"Susannah, I still don't know how to help you. We're running out of time. And..."

He hesitated and she furrowed her brow in wait, encouraging him to continue.

"I don't want to cause you to have a set back in your control over the demon," he said, and she shook her head that it was okay. "Satoch lead us to Forte," he now continued. "And Forte's coming here in less than an hour. I just wanted you to be prepared. We still don't know what sort of link he has to you, or the demon. He seems to know more than he wants to admit, though."

Susannah observed him for a few moments, then she nodded.

"It's okay. I'll be fine...I hope. And for the record," she said. "It IS me. Here. Now. For what it's worth."

He smiled a little, his hand squeezing hers lightly.

"I know," he replied, pausing again before going on with: "There's something else I need to tell you." She looked wondering and he drew a small, unnecessary breath before saying: "Last night my heart started beating..."

Susannah listened with growing eyes as he told her the whole story.

***

Twenty minutes later he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

He didn't know what he felt.

Last night he had talked with Cordelia for a while, but they hadn't even approached the subject which had had her storm out of his room and kept her away from him for the more part of the evening. They had spoken about the first time they met, and those that followed. About Buffy and William and Willow and Xander and Giles. About Sunnydale and Los Angeles. About good times and not so good times. Old times and new.

But as they had said good night and they had laid in the dark for a while without saying anything, when he assumed she had gone to sleep and she must've done the same thing about him, she started crying.

He had never wanted to hold another as much as he had right then, and not being able to had been damn near intolerable. Without thinking he had started humming an old tune from his homeland, and when he began reciting old sayings and folklore from his human ancestors - in Irish - her sobs had hushed. She had moved over on her side, her still teary eyes fixing on him and then she had given him the most heavenly smile.

He had spent an unknown amount of hours watching her sleep. Feeling like he was beginning to have two split sides to him. One side was still at peace with what he knew he had to do; he knew he had no choice in the matter, not really. The other side refused to reconcile with that thought. That side wanted to help with the research for some other way, some other road they could take, so that he could survive. Looking at her, having her before him and so close, made the feeling of loss that more real.

Then there was his own words still lingering in his head.

What life would they ever have together?

No, he would be rid of his demon; he would get to rest, truly rest, for the first time in nearly three centuries. It might be selfish reasons for which to die for the rest of the world, but he needed them there; in plain sight.

The world he would be leaving had given him its share of pain and of pleasure. It was his time to give something in return. He wasn't like Spike had been, and Angelus had seen that sappy romantic at heart in Spike from the day Drusilla brought him into the Scourge's closed circle. Angelus would never have fallen in love, would never have given his way of life up for another being. Never. Angelus would never have gone willingly to retrieve a soul the demon in him knew would hold his instincts back, would probably dull them into something unrecognizable with a big dose of conscience and leashes of human emotional drivel.

Spike had gotten some sort of second chance. With Buffy and with the world he had saved. William had deserved that chance.

Angel knew there was none of that for him.

It wasn't about him being less worthy, because he wasn't.

It was about the order of things.

This was the meaning he had lasted for so long. The reason for his life was these fatal last days of it. He had accepted that. What he hadn't accepted was how this was affecting those around him. People he knew relied on him, one way or another. People whom he loved, and who loved him.

Cordelia...

"Angel?"

He jerked at the sound of her voice, barely realizing he had been so deep in thought.

"Hey," he mumbled, then had a smile curl the corners of his mouth as he rested his gaze in hers.

She mirrored his expression, but those eyes of hers carried a trace of a shadow now that was unmistakable.

"Do you grieve me already?" he asked silently and she blinked, then looked away from him. "I'm sorry," he hurriedly added. "I didn't mean it to sound so... harsh."

"I don't know how to deal with this," she replied, glancing at him. "I don't know how to act or what to say anymore. I don't..." she trailed off before facing him fully again, finishing: "I don't wanna let you go."

He bit his jaws together, trying to find something supportive to say. Some insight which would lead her to conclude that this was their only option. That it was pointless, what she was doing; trying to save him from his own fate.

"I don't wanna let YOU go," he finally murmured, and it was the truth. "You're the one thing I don't know how to give up," he added quietly and her eyes grew just a little before a flash of happiness appeared in them.

She opened her mouth to say something when Buffy called from the foyer that Forte's car was pulling up in front.

"We'd better get down there, don't you think?" Cordelia asked and Angel paused, then smiled a little, nodding his consent and they headed for the stairs.

***

The sleek silver Cadillac announced the presence of someone reeking with power, elegance and self-assurance just as much as the air about the man himself did as he stepped out of it. He wore a pale chalk suit for the occasion, impeccable in presentation as always. It was hard for anyone of those who saw him to remember that in actuality he wasn't human.

He gave them all gracious smiles as he stepped up the short set of stairs to the entrance doors, shaking Angel's hand firmly - since the latter now had taken front space to greet the guest after he and Cordelia had ascended to the bottom floor - and then he walked inside, the soles of his shoes sounding hard against the floor as he proceeded to the floor of the foyer and then stopped abruptly. He seemed to sense something, but clearly shook whatever it was off before he turned to face the others again.

"Interesting place you've got here, Mr. McLaughlin," he said with another smile. "I would love to get in touch with your decorator."

"I realize it may be a long run from the splendor you're used to," Angel replied, keeping the sarcasm out of his voice as he added: "But I believe it's the people - not the design - that make it home."

"Touché," Forte smirked. "I meant not to offend you," he then stated. "I'm afraid my mind is much too used to making itself heard. It doesn't think before connecting itself to my mouth. I apologize."

"There's no need," Angel assured. "However, had you said something demeaning about any of the people you see surround me I believe an apology might not have been enough."

Forte's smirk changed once more into a smile, this time a warmer one as he nodded.

"Very well, then. I'm happy I have nothing but praise for those you keep close," he said and Angel returned the smile, all be it not with as much friendliness. "Shall we get on with the reason for my visit?" Forte added with a raise of his eyebrows, seemingly waiting for someone to lead the way.

Angel exchanged a look with Buffy, who gave a small shrug of what-else? And then he looked at Spike, who kept his eyes on Forte and showed no sign of letting the latter escape the surveillance for even a second.

Angel knew exactly how the former vampire felt, but for now there wasn't much they could do and so he had to rely on Buffy's Slayer instincts being right - what else was there but to give Forte access?

Angel now turned his head to Wesley, giving a small nod and Wesley returned it before walking down to join Forte and then showing him into the conference room.

"Bad feelings all over," Spike grumbled.

"Hon, not to sound putting-you-down-y or anything, but you're human now. And everyone knows the male side of the species have intuition worth jack," Buffy said, slipping one hand comfortingly in his as she gave him a sympathetic look.

He gave her a faked smile at that before replying:

"I WAS a vamp for a long time; some things are bound to stick. And I didn't lose my bloody eyes, Slayer. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about him..."

"Anyone else feel it might be a good enough time as any to join in on the exploring of OUR prophecy before that demon 'changes' into something big and hairy and topples only-human-with-intuition-worth-jack Wesley over and perhaps, I dunno, bolts with our only key to saving the day?" Cordelia cut in and everybody paused as they looked at each other.

Then they moved as one and soon they were all cramped into the conference room, where no one were even about to change OR get toppled. However, Forte's eyes were shining with excitement as he surveyed the last page of the first part of the prophecy.

"This is amazing," he breathed. "Amazing!"

"And - ripped in two," Buffy pointed out.

There was one thing to give Forte access, a completely other to give him ALL access; or so Angel had figured as he had ordered the second part of the prophecy be put in the safe in his office. At leas they had some sort of upper hand. But for how long? He wasn't exactly sure how large a being a changer could change into, or even what countenance the changer had in its original form; but Cordelia's comment about big-and-hairy hadn't flown too well with the vamp and now he was even more on the edge and ready to leap on top of Forte's head - if duty called - than he had been before.

"Yes, indeed," Forte now nodded to Buffy's earlier input. "Torn in half, just as the legend foretells. Amazing. Simply amazing. You have the second part as well, of course," he added, looking up at Angel who stared at him; about to deny it when Forte smiled and shook his head. "No need to worry, if I had been in your shoes I wouldn't have shown it to me either. I would love to see it, naturally. But I cannot blame you for taking precautions. After all, what do you know of me?"

Now they were all silent and he smiled again before bending closer to the prophecy and slipping one finger along the rows of letters.

"'And on the second day their cries shall eclipse all and fear shall rule the world,'" he recited, looking up at them as he asked: "Last night the stars aligned, did they not? The first crucial step of this prophecy has been taken, and the second one is about to be set in motion."

"Who are you?" Fred spoke up. "How can you know this?"

"It is of little consequence who I am," Forte replied. "And how I know...? The Coming has been told of among my people for centuries. It's rather strange it took so long for someone to write it down. Perhaps it had to do with so many considering it to be myth; folklore, if you will."

"But..." Fred paused, looking a little uncertain before she finished: "But it was a human who wrote the prophecy, wasn't it?"

Forte chuckled, shaking his head again and straightening his posture before making a gesture to his form.

"Ever heard the saying: never judge a being by its exterior," he replied and her eyes grew.

"Are you saying..." Wesley began, "that Alliande was in fact a demon? ...That he was a Changer?"

Forte observed him in silence for a few seconds, then he nodded; growing serious.

"Yes, that is what I'm saying," he confirmed.

"But then you can help us!" Cordelia burst out. "You can finish the translation. You can tell us what to do...!"

"No," Forte shook his head. "I can't. You see, this prophecy has changed over time. The marrow of it stays the same, but the meaning of what is to be done is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. For some reason this text found its way into your hands. It did so for a reason. The task is yours and yours alone. It has to be."

"Save the Matrix mumbo-jumbo, would you?" Buffy asked, not able to hide her annoyance. "People might die if we don't solve this. If there is anything you can do to help..."

"My part in this has already been played," he stopped her. "The bottle was in my safe-keep, and I delivered it onto you. And people 'might' not die, they will. The whole world will die if you don't stop it. The Coming tells of the final plague upon man and beast. It will eat its way through time and essence, through dimension and space until there is nothing left but an infinite black hole."

He turned his eyes back on the prophecy and pointed to a row of letters situated beneath the ones he had spoken out loud earlier.

"That is what this part of the prophecy refers to. 'There shall be no end'," he said, having his eyes in Angel's as he finished: "'and no beginning'."

Suddenly there was a scream ringing through the room. It seeped through the walls, hung loosely in the air, crashed into their hearing and made their eyes tear up with what seemed not far from pain. Pain seemed to be coming from everywhere, wrapping around them tightly and making it difficult to breathe.

"Soon chaos shall rule," Forte said, looking at those surrounding him as they went to their knees with their hands before their ears.

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-Twenty-Sixth-

By Annie

2003-12-19

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

"...leaves talk of not only paranormal activity being recorded around the world, baffling even the most hardened scientists within the field, but also opening the doors for speculations around government conspiracy... and alien invasion."

Buffy rested her forehead in her hands as Angel turned off the small television set.

Everybody sat stunned.

Forte had left rather hastily twenty minutes earlier. The sound of the sharp cry which had rung through their heads had slowly died away and as they had collected themselves again, rising to their feet with the echo of it still in their ears, Forte had said nothing. He had listened to their silent conversation about what this might mean, and then he had stated that he had overstayed his welcome; and thus had to leave.

"I also have some personal things to tend to," he had added at the doors. "If the world might be at the brink of destruction it may be a good idea to have no unfinished business with it."

None of them had been able to offer a good enough protest to keep him there. They couldn't very well force him to decipher the prophecy. For all they knew he was telling the truth, and he wouldn't be able to do a better job than Wesley or Spike.

The reason they had turned on the TV was because three minutes after Forte had left, Giles had called. And it seemed he had had due cause. The world wasn't only on the brink of destruction, it was at an uproar as the fragile seams between demon and human society seemed to be ripping and revealing the two in all their degraded beauty and immoral right to coexist.

"Okay," Buffy now said. "This is a bad-on-top-of-really-bad we don't need."

"And one we can't deal with in any way," Wesley said.

"I second that loudly," Gunn agreed. "There's no way we can stop what's happening. But if the demons decide to come into the streets there are other slayers who'll strike 'em down," he added and Buffy smiled a little, nodding.

"So," Faith said, "our focus is yet again set on our own private party."

"Seems like it," Spike nodded.

"'Alien invasion'," Cordelia huffed. "My God, there are some who'll believe anything."

None could resist smiling at that remark.

***

Three hours later Wesley rose from his chair, staring at the page he held in his hand and then bending forward to reread what he had written and cross-reference it with his dictionary notes on the first prophecy. Spike, sitting at the research table across from him, was following his movements with growing interest.

"Figured anything out?"

Wesley looked up at him, his expression seemingly saying enough because when he grabbed the book before him on the table and rushed out of the room Spike wasn't even one second too late to follow. The two men walked through the foyer and into the kitchen, where Angel, Cordelia, Gunn, Fred and Buffy were sitting having a moderate lunch during which they had so far fervently discussed the rising situation in the rest of the world.

As Wesley and Spike entered the room all conversation stopped, as well as knives cutting and forks bringing food to mouths. Eyes landed on the two forms, questioningly and apprehensively, but also with growing hope.

"The last part," Wesley said. "I believe it continues with this: 'And only one other may serve the side of light within the realm of dark. Look to the west and you shall find what you seek, look to the east and there shall be nothing but sorrow, look to the south and you shall see the fire burning, look to the north and there shall be nothing but grovel and dust.'"

The others seemed to be waiting for the rest, and when it didn't come, Buffy was the one who swallowed the food still lingering in her mouth and then asked:

"And that means?"

Wesley looked from one to another, then replied in fake-optimism:

"I don't know. But we'll find out."

Buffy restrained herself from rolling her eyes, then smiled as she directed her gaze in Angel's.

"There might still be hope," she said, but he only gave her a half smile back before rising to his feet and walking up to Wesley to have a closer look at what he had been able to deduce from the text.

Spike walked with them back into the conference room.

"Well, I couldn't start the translating so that it picked up where the first part left off, obviously," Wesley said and Angel nodded.

He knew that the prophecy was written backwards with symbols in patterns and as the punctuations and sentence formations were completely different from the human way of structure he also understood that it might be difficult starting in the middle of something, when you didn't even know exactly where the middle was.

So Wesley had taken the clearest paragraph closest to the first page of the second part and started there. Trouble had been that it had been situated nearly three pages from that very first page. It had taken him a day and a half to work his way through it, because every new page offered new or different versions of the same symbol, and if that symbol was entirely new to the context he ran into a brick wall which needed patience to be dissembled.

"So," Wesley continued, "it took me some time to go through the content up until the point we're interested in. Now, the translation is finished, as you understand; and even if we don't know exactly what it means it does in fact point to Buffy being right - there may still be hope left for you," he finished as they entered the conference room.

Wesley put the book down on the table and Angel and Spike joined at either side as he opened it up and began speaking again.

"After the prophecy there are several pages telling of what will become of the world, and it seems Forte wasn't wrong in that regard. But, Will, it's your turn," Wesley stated, turning his head to Spike who raised his eyebrows and then said:

"Right," before they all stepped back slightly and he continued: "Well, I figured out why the last part of the FIRST part of the prophecy starts with 'as the year closes'. According to the Gotcka's - which is the more traditional name for the Changers - well, according to their almanac, or what you wanna call it, tomorrow is New Years Eve."

Angel cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay. So then all of the dates fit. The countdown of the prophecy is verified and leads us to tomorrow, for certain. Good job," he commended.

"Yeah, but how prepared are we?" Wesley wondered. "Do we know where yet? What time? How?" Angel gave him a look and Wesley sighed. "Okay, blindfold it is. Right now I am going to try and get a hold on Forte. And demand that he tells us something about this supposed 'other'."

Angel watched him leave the room, then turned to Spike who was looking at him probingly.

"What?" the vampire inquired and Spike hesitated before replying:

"You don't think there is someone else, do you? To take your place."

"No," Angel confirmed. "Even if there was someone like that... how could I expect them to step in? How could I WANT them to? And we're out of time," he added, looking at the prophecy. "We're out of time."

***

"I wish things were simpler..." Buffy mumbled, cuddling closer to Spike where they sat under a blanket on the bench in the garden.

The stars had just been lit above their heads by some unseen match and against the blackness they seemed strangely comforting with their familiarity, though also melancholy with a reminder that no matter what happened on the planet they were watching - nothing could touch them. Though perhaps for the very first time that wasn't even true anymore. Forte's words seemed to have included all being turned into nothing, even space and time.

"I wish we could fly off to some distant island or something, you know?" Buffy now added, voice low as she quietly enjoyed the nearness of her love. "Just the two of us. Alone."

"Mhhh," he murmured his consent, moving one hand to play with the fingers of one of hers and then he sighed.

"But even if I could go all Superman and scoop you into my arms and fly away with you..."

He trailed off and she pouted before sighing as well.

"I know," she grumbled. "Wouldn't it be cool though," she added. "If you could? Go all Superman?"

He furrowed his brow, then looked down at her; making her move her head and meet his gaze.

"You don't miss... the super-me, do you?" he asked and she blinked, then smiled widely.

"You think I do?" she asked back and he squared his shoulders slightly with self-consciousness before he replied:

"Well, no... It's just I can't go on patrol with you anymore, can I? Can't spar. What fun am I?"

She raised her eyebrows before moving up and kissing the closest corner of his mouth and then giving him a gentle smile.

"Loads of fun, love," she said and he returned her smile, then kissed her back.

She returned to her previous position, with her head against his shoulder.

"Patrolling isn't what it used to be," she now stated. "I hardly do it anymore, and with you in the same bed..." She stopped herself and then she smirked as she glanced up at him. He was wearing the same expression and she swallowed the laughter before continuing: "Well... And the sparring I do, I just do it for exercise. I mean, you can't just let seven years of your life go. Old habits die hard and all that...But I don't think I'd enjoy kicking the head off your shoulders nearly as much now as I did back in the day," she finished and at that he chuckled softly.

"I guess," he murmured, brushing his lips against the top of her head and then closing his eyes. "But I can still watch you... can't I?" he added and she smiled again, looking up at him once more and then nodding a little. He smirked. "Good," he said and her smile broadened.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Somewhere between we-don't-have-to-get-up-yet and dinner," he replied and she laughed before moving one arm out from under the blanket to look at her watch.

"It's almost seven," she said and he grumbled something incoherent as she sat up and stretched. "What was that, honey?" she added and he gave her a look before flashing her a smile.

"Just said I'm not really hungry," he clarified and she smirked, getting to her feet and then turning around to grab one of his hands and pull him up as well.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" she wondered and he shrugged, slipping his arms around her from behind as they began walking together toward the glass doors.

"As ready as I can be. Doesn't matter how much you focus your mind on expecting the unexpected, it's still as unexpected once it arrives as it was when it was only anticipated," he replied and she smiled her agreement as she looked at him over one shoulder.

"You always say the darndest things," she smirked and he returned her smile as they entered the foyer.

He hesitated for a second or two, then made up his mind and said:

"I have something I wanna ask you."

He stopped and made her do the same before unfolding his arms and moving her around to face him.

She frowned questioningly, then smiled a little as she waited.

"Buffy," he continued and suddenly her heart skipped a thousand beats; in actuality she thought it had nearly stopped.

What is he doing? her mind demanded as she stared into his eyes, so serious. Oh, God, what is he doing?

It wasn't that she hadn't fantasized about him doing this, about him looking at her precisely like that and his voice sounding exactly like that, but she hadn't thought the moment would arrive now! She hadn't even imagined it would be this soon. Of course, the world might be over in twenty-four hours, perhaps it was now or never... She drew a small breath as she focused back on him.

"Would you do me the honor..." he began slowly and she swallowed hard as he took one of her hands in his.

Go on! her thoughts screamed, her pulse now elevating into a surreal rhythm as his thumb gently slid over her knuckles and then squeezed softly.

"...of joining me next Saturday..."

In holy matrimony, forsaking all others and living happily ever after, amen.

"I do," she replied as her own sentence died out in her head, and when she saw his quizzical expression she blinked and smiled brightly to cover her thoughts up. "Sorry. Please -continue. Wait," she then stopped him, suddenly looking surprised. "Did you say NEXT Saturday?"

"Yeah..." he replied slowly, observing her closely. "I'm asking you out on our first date."

"Our first...?" she began, trailing off as she felt, to her very deep detriment, how her cheeks began to burn.

"We've never had one, and this whole buggering world-going-under'll blow over, we'll be alright and in light of that I thought we could set a..." he trailed off from his elaboration, watching her complexion and beginning to feel more and more insecure about her reaction. "Are you okay, pet?"

"Of course!" she answered, smiling again. "God, Spike... William... Honey, of course, I'm... okay. That's a very... romantic and... nice and everything... idea. A first date." She chuckled, seemingly to herself before she slapped him on the arm. "I'll clear my schedule," she finished and he could see the nervousness on her as though she had drawn it with very light purple paint on her skin.

"Buffy," he said and she raised her eyebrows, her eyes not really in his and he furrowed his brow.

"What did you think I was talking about?"

"Nothing," came the much too quick reply, and then that smile again.

Did she think she could make him forget everything just by flashing him that smile? As though the happiness and strength and love hidden within the light of it would make him lose his head completely and just turn into some puddle of brilliant. No... much better than 'brilliant'. A puddle of bliss and...

Damn.

"Stop that," he grumbled and she had a wondering expression on her face before she stepped closer and stood on her toes, giving his cheek a soft kiss and making the joints of his knees non-existent.

"Dinner's served!" Gunn called from the kitchen and Buffy stepped away again, grabbing Spike's hand with another bright smile directed his way before she began to walk toward the doorway of said room.

Spike rolled his eyes at himself.

He was such a bloody wanker.

A curious bloody wanker and a bloody wanker that'd make sure she told him sooner or later, but a bloody wanker nonetheless.

***

Buffy had been walking around with the most gnawing feeling all day. There was something she was missing. She knew it. But the more she tried to bring it forward, the more it slipped back and away and so she had tried to take her mind off it.

She was scared that Angel was right. He had taken her aside after dinner and spoken to her silently for nearly fifteen minutes, saying that he needed her to keep her mind clear of all things but the fact that the future of all life was in their hands now. He knew she had held it before, and he also knew that she had never faltered to do what was right. Not even when it meant she had to give loved ones up.

No matter the proof he already had, he had stated that he had to have her promise now that it didn't matter what was going to happen the following day, she would still do everything in her power to make sure that the prophecy's darker parts were never fulfilled.

She had looked at him and known that it would take a miracle to save him now, because she could see the determination in his eyes which was the very same that she had felt in her heart the morning she had jumped off Glory's tower.

"What about hope?" she had murmured meekly and he had smiled a little, then shook his head.

"I said it before to Will, and I'll say it again to you now - we don't have any time left," he had answered and she had found nothing to say to that.

She had hugged him hard, had told him that she loved him, and that no matter what happened the next day she would stop the prophecy. She had told him that the Slayer side was stronger than her human side in that regard, and always had been. He didn't have to worry.

But now she was scared. Because she had never let hope leave her, she had to keep it close, especially for him. Only a large part of her was beginning to come to terms with his statement being very accurate - time had run out for them. For him.

She slipped between the sheets of the bed, Spike's strong arms immediately wrapping themselves around her and pulling her close, making relaxation come all the more easily as she rested her head against the pillow and closed her eyes.

Flashes of pictures suddenly appeared before her eyes and Spike could feel her body tense as she gasped.

"Buffy?" his voice came from far away.

She turned toward the gaping opening in the cave wall, through which she had come, but then let the thought go and turned toward the well. The blood glistened in it, like colored glass. And before she knew it she sat up, back in Spike's room, her eyes wide as she caught her breath.

"Oh, my God," she mumbled, throwing the covers off and getting out of bed again.

"Buffy?" Spike repeated as she rushed up to the door and she turned to him.

"Come on," she said. "Hurry!"

He didn't bother asking for an explanation. The urgency in her tone made him get out of the bed as well, to run after her where she had already proceeded down the hallway and further down the stairs all the way to the first floor.

He caught up with her in Angel's office, where she was just finishing dialing the numbers of Giles'. She raised one hand for him to keep quiet as the dial tone rang in her ear, and then Giles answered.

"It's me," Buffy said.

"What can I do for you now?" he wondered and she smiled a little.

"I miss you," she stated sweetly.

"Very nice to hear," he replied. "And me too," he added, his voice warmer which made her smile broaden. "Now, what may I aid you with?"

"The Hellmouth," Buffy answered. "How far does it stretch from Sunnydale?"

"The Hellmouth is destroyed..." Giles began, but Buffy cut him off impatiently.

"Yes, but its caves. It must stretch further than merely underneath the previous-and-now-not-so-much town," she said and there was a slight pause.

"I guess there could, in theory, be vast areas that have yet to be explored," he agreed reluctantly. "Caves as well as passageways. Some too narrow to even think about entering, naturally. But I suppose there could be a possibility, yes," he finished and Buffy nodded, her grip on the phone making it creek in dislike at the pressure.

"Could they stretch as far as to the coast?" she asked, struggling to keep her excitement down.

"That would be highly unlikely," Giles answered slowly. "But... I believe they could. What is this about?"

"My dream," she replied. "Thank you, Giles," she added. "Is Willow there?"

"Why, yes... But..."

"Please, can I talk to her? It's important," Buffy interrupted and Giles seemed to hesitate before he called for the Wicca.

"I wish you'd tell me what is going on," he then stated.

"I know," Buffy replied. "And I'm sorry. But it'd take too long."

"Here's Willow," he muttered.

"Thank you," she said.

"Buffy?" Willow's voice sounded.

"Willow, I need your help. I didn't wanna ask unless I knew I didn't have any other choice, and now - there's no other choices left," Buffy said.

"What's wrong?" Willow wondered.

"I'll tell you everything, once you're here."

"There?!" Willow exclaimed.

"Could you teleport?" Buffy inquired tentatively and there was a long silence before Willow replied:

"I'm not sure."

"Would you do your best? For me? I wouldn't ask unless it wasn't absolutely necessary."

"Another apocalypse?"

"More or less."

"Right," Willow sighed, then she suddenly giggled. "I was actually wondering when you'd call on me. Didn't think it'd be this late."

"I'm sorry."

"No, you don't have to apologize... I just... I'll talk to the Coven. Maybe they can help me help you," she said and Buffy felt relief fill her before she smiled.

"Thanks, Wills."

"What're friends for?" the Wicca smirked and Buffy laughed at that.

"I'll see you soon, then?" she asked.

"Pretty soon," Willow answered and Buffy smiled before they said good-bye and she hung up.

"Okay, tell me," Spike said and she shook her head.

"Let's wake the others," was her reply as she came up to him and then passed him in the doorway, heading back toward the stairs.

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